Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first.

Hyperion offers both CDs, and downloads in a number of formats. The site is also available in several languages.

Please use the dropdown buttons to set your preferred options, or use the checkbox to accept the defaults.

Introduction

The introduction to Job (track 1) begins with a majestic orchestral statement that immediately recalls the noble tone of the opening of Blest Pair of Sirens. Its broad diatonic C major sweep, replete with melodic sequence, pedal point and rich orchestration is unmistakable Parry and it never fails to stir as it recurs throughout the oratorio as a form of neo-baroque ‘symphony’. After the weighty plagal cadence of the full orchestra, we hear the first of several leitmotivs that punctuate the fabric of the four individual scenes. A descending figure in the cellos, representing the spirit of Job in his changing fortunes, ushers in the first declamatory section of the scene. Our first picture of Job is his righteousness, painted resplendently in Parry’s stirring modulation to B flat (‘and one that feared God’) and the repetition of the orchestral ‘symphony’. The tonality quickly switches to A minor as the narrator tells of the days of feasting and of Job’s doubt that perhaps his sons and daughters may have ‘cursed God in their hearts’. On this uncertain note the music becomes more animated as we are launched into the dialogue between God and Satan (2). Switching abruptly to A flat major, Satan enters to confront God (personified by the male chorus). God’s faith in Job is echoed in the orchestra by a variation of the opening ‘symphony’, but this is short-lived as Satan impatiently bursts in with ‘Doth Job serve God for nought?’, a tonally unstable episode that culminates in a strident passage for horns and Satan’s challenge ‘But put forth Thine hand now, and touch all that he hath’ (3). With God’s acquiescence and Satan’s exit, the scene ends with a further restatement of the orchestral ‘symphony’, returning us to the pastoral depiction of Job, yet with a sense of foreboding in the knowledge that destruction and suffering are about to befall our hero.

The pastoral evocation that formed a significant portion of Scene I is further accentuated at the beginning of Scene II with the song of the Shepherd Boy (4). The simplicity of the musical ideas, the pentatonic clarinet melody, the limpid timbre of the treble voice and the uncomplicated strophic form all contribute to a vision of tender innocence; yet clouding this representation of gentle naïveté are the darker harmonies that intrude in the strings, serving to remind us of the coming storm. Here we have a demonstration of Parry’s harmonic resourcefulness as he colours his luminous G major with the minor subdominant. Moreover, this minor subdominant recurs unexpectedly, first as an unusual cadential interruption and then as means of modulating to B flat major, the flat mediant – all this before surfacing effortlessly into G major once again for the Shepherd Boy’s first verse. The tonal events of the instrumental prelude find their way into the two verses of the song: a modulation to B flat signals the end of the verse and the beginning of the refrain (‘The wind bites not’), while the interrupted cadence to the minor subdominant (‘The gentle sheep may stray’) ominously only provides a half close. The second verse behaves in the same way with but a small modification at the end in the form of a coda (‘They need no guard, God is their ward’). The pentatonic ruminations of the clarinet are expunged as Satan enters malignantly (5). As he summons the Sabean horde to destroy Job’s flocks, the tonality moves to B minor, a key which frames the whole of the chorus’s narrative description of the dreadful carnage. The episode ends with a poignant lament (‘The song of the shepherd has ceased in the land’) in which the oboe sings out a mournful transformation of the orchestral ‘symphony’ in Scene I. This is inspired music, not only in the inventive choral harmony, but also in the expressive interjections from the doleful unison cellos and low violins (how Elgar must have loved this passage!). The Shepherd Boy as messenger (accompanied by a melancholy incipit of his innocent song) recounts to Job that he is the only survivor from the holocaust meted out by the Sabeans (6). It is a terrible blow (intimated by the cello motif that answers the messenger’s woeful tale), but Job, holy man as he is, meets his loss and anguish with immovable trust in God. Parry marked this dramatic moment with a passage of restrained solemnity in G minor. Job, accompanied by muted strings (in a manner not unlike the hallowed declamatory passages of Jesus in the St Matthew Passion), accepts his lot with dignity; the musical material has a certain Brahmsian flavour, but the yearning lyricism surely betrays a more English temperament. Satan, as the author of a calamitous storm, brings yet further misery to Job in what is his main set piece (‘Arise, O wind of the sea!’). The structure of this section is in fact ‘aria and chorus’, for after Satan’s invocation (in F major) comes a further choral narrative. After a brief transition (‘See the clouds that sweep o’er the heavens’), the key of C minor is established, marking the descent of darkness (‘All the bright lights of heaven are made dark’). The whole of this part effectively constitutes a development of the leitmotiv of Job’s spirit (first heard in the cellos and basses) as further suffering is inflicted on his stricken soul. The tonal dissolution of this paragraph is resolved by a bracing choral statement (‘Lift up thy voice, O son of man, and cry!’ (7)), re-asserting C major, but the message is one of desolation and waste. Job, confused and broken, is left alone to grieve.

The opening twenty-six bars of Scene III (8) take us back to the declamatory style of Scene I. Job’s cello leitmotiv is once again in evidence but now all sense of well-being has been expunged from it as it now emerges as an agent of tragedy and despair. Job finally curses his day. Staunch acceptance of God’s ways is replaced by the need for answers, a change of heart at once felt in the faltering strains of Job’s ‘faith’ motif immediately before the ‘Lamentation’.

‘The Lamentation of Job’ has rarely been matched in terms of length or emotional tension in the history of oratorio. Elgar also produced extended solo paragraphs – one thinks of Judas’ soliloquy in The Apostles (1903) and ‘The sun goeth down’ sung by Mary in The Kingdom (1906) – but Parry’s scena, running to some fourteen pages of vocal score, must rank as one of the most sustained and physically exacting essays ever attempted in British choral music. For Parry, who had largely failed to come to terms with the theatrical (and hence external) demands of opera, it was an opportunity for him to bring his assimilation of Wagnerian declamation and leitmotivic transformation to bear on an internalized dramatic situation of truly symphonic scope. (In this sense the manner and technique of the ‘Lamentation’ has much in common with Wotan’s agonized soul-searching in Die Walküre and the ‘Wahnmonolog’ of Hans Sachs in Die Meistersinger.) The scena, based in A minor, is constructed in six distinct parts, beginning with Job’s bitterness of spirit and desire for death (9), a mood communicated by the stark and austere material in rigid, parallel thirds (a metamorphosis of Job’s cello theme). Job’s questioning is passionate: ‘Why died I not from the womb?’ (10), he asks imploringly. In death at least he should have ‘lain still and been quiet’. In the second section Job reflects, with some exasperation, on the notion of justice and the omnipotent Deity (‘How should a man be just with God?’ (11)), aware of his own insignificance. Yet, in his weariness, he has the courage to demand answers from his Creator (12). These fundamental questions – ‘show me wherefore thou contendest with me. Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest oppress?’ – constitute the third section in a more lyrical A flat major which in turn leads to D flat and Job’s powerful meditation on the transitoriness of life (section four). The words ‘Man that is born of woman is of few days, and full of trouble’ (13) are familiar from the Order for the Burial of the Dead and from Purcell’s immutable setting used at the funeral of Queen Mary. Parry’s setting retains the same level of pathos as that of Purcell but in an entirely romantic context. Supported by the velvet tones of three trombones, the cellos sing a melody charged with melancholy. This lyrical gesture recurs with increased ardour throughout Job’s arioso and also closes off the section in the manner of a baroque set piece. In what is actually a short episode, Parry manages to achieve not only great pathos, but also an extraordinary intensity which leaves behind the impression that this part constitutes the very heart of the work. From here Job attempts to stage some kind of emotional recovery as he remembers the God of past experience (‘O that I were as in the months past, as in the days when God preserved me’ – section five (14)). As the tonality gravitates towards C major – a tonal memory of his once happy life – Job sings more buoyantly in a neo-Handelian vein (‘I put on righteousness, and it clothed me’). The memory, however, is short-lived, for he quickly realizes that his predicament is one of hopelessness (‘But now my soul is poured out upon me’ (15)). The sixth section restores both the key of A minor and the opening austerity as Job bitterly accepts his lot. Stoically he looks forward to the time of his death (at which point Parry masterfully reintroduces the cello melody of section four) without knowing the cause of God’s displeasure (16).

Scene IV, representing God in the whirlwind, creates an appropriately massive symmetry to Scene III and is for the most part a scena in choral form. It serves also to reaffirm the home key of the oratorio, C major. Like the ‘Lamentation’, the chorus is composed of six large architectural structures, though crucially, at the end, Parry provides a more extensive coda for the Narrator and Job. The opening choral statement, ‘Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge?’ (17), is highly striking, both for its unusual harmonic progression of root-position chords and its dramatic gradation of dynamics from pianissimo to forte. God’s demand (‘Gird up thy loins like a man, and answer’) is marked by the imposing timbre of the horns who present a bold ritornello idea to punctuate the entire section. After the exultant conclusion of the first part, an orchestral transition takes us to the flat mediant (E flat) for a spacious choral paragraph imbued with sea imagery (‘Who shut up the sea with doors?’ (18)). Especially impressive here is Parry’s use of the trombone which becomes even more conspicuous in the animated bridge to section three. ‘Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days?’ (19) is by contrast a lyrical effusion that, in its breadth and rapture, looks forward linguistically to the choral works of Elgar. The imagery of section two is continued in the fourth section (‘Who hath divided a watercourse’) but this time with a much wider pictorial range. In depicting the rain, dew and hoary frost, Parry exhibits considerable sensitivity in his choice of orchestration, but most remarkable of all are the unearthly timbres of low tuba, trombones, horns, cellos and basses that portray the frozen deep. The fifth section, ‘Hast thou given the horse strength?’ (20), is a brisk scherzo in F major which culminates with a repeat of the horn ritornello first heard in section one (now with full brass). This gesture anticipates God’s initial demand (‘Gird up thy loins like a man, and answer’) which now acts as a link to section six. With the mention of judgment and majesty (‘Wilt thou disannul judgment?’ (21)), Parry creates an atmosphere of epic grandeur by means of a neo-Bachian style replete with walking-bass and French ‘double-dotted’ figurations. Architecturally this becomes even more immense as the end of the chorus builds to a broad climax by way of a series of weighty imitative entries (‘Cast abroad the rage of thy wrath’); but perhaps most affecting is the last choral utterance (‘Then shall God also confess’ (22)) which, in its manipulation of a higher diatonic dissonance, looks forward to the sumptuous vocal textures of the late Songs of Farewell.

The conclusion of Job brings together all the most important thematic elements and in so doing operates as both a dramatic and symphonic resolution to the oratorio. Job’s reappearance is signalled by the return of his cello leitmotiv, while his deeply moving act of repentance (‘I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear’) is marked by a recapitulation (in D flat) of the ‘Lamentation’ theme elided subtly with the final phrase of the ‘meditation’ idea. The work closes, as it began, with the Narrator whose brief but profoundly uplifting music tells of Job’s end (23). It is then left to the orchestra to restate in a glorious blaze of C major the opening ‘symphony’ as an apotheosis of Job, the holy man and hero, restored to God’s favour.

Narrator: There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil. His substance was seven thousand sheep, and three thousand camels, and five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred she asses, and a very great household; so that this man was the greatest of all the men of the east. And his sons went and feasted in their houses, ev’ry one his day; and sent and called for his sisters to eat and drink with them.

And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said,

Job: It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.

Narrator: Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them.

Satan: From going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it.

Narrator: And the Lord said to Satan,

Chorus: Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, and one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?

Narrator: And Satan answered the Lord, and said,

Satan: Doth Job serve God for nought? Hast Thou not made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on ev’ry side? Thou has blessed the works of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land.

Shepherd Boy: The flocks of my master are blessed of God; No harm ever comes to the tender lambs or ewes; They wander on the mountains, where no man’s foot has trod, They feed in shady valleys, on herb all fresh with dews:

The wind bites not, The sun smites not, And little care Is the shepherd’s share Where’er night or day The gentle sheep may stray.

The folds of my master are full to overflow; His oxen are as stars in number, countless, lithe, and strong. As far as eye can reach or a man by day may go, The herds are scattered far and wide, and no man does them wrong.

The wind bites not, The sun smites not, And little care Is the shepherd’s share Where’er night or day The gentle sheep may stray. They need no guard, God is their ward, And ever is our master’s help and stay.

Chorus: See! upon the distant plain, a white cloud of dust: The ravagers come! See! where gleams the sun afar, the quick flash of steel, The terror of men! Hear the dreadful thunder of their horses onward rush, Shaking the earth! Hear the shouts of spoilers, and the clash of arms Echoing far! They sweep the herds before them, They destroy the fruits of the earth, They slay the flying shepherds, They fire the dwellings of men!

As locusts gathering, As hailstones rattling, As sea waves thundering, They heed not human cries, They slack not speed or hand; Before them all the land is bright, Behind them, black and bare.

The song of the shepherd has ceased in the land, The lowing of kine and the bleating of sheep Is stilled, stilled. O’er all the plains is silence, silence!

Scene 2 No 3: And there came a messenger to Job, and said (Narrator/Shepherd Boy/Job/Satan/Chorus)

Shepherd Boy: The oxen were ploughing, and the asses feeding beside them; and the Sabeans fell upon them, and drove them away; and they have slain thy servants with the sword, and I only am escaped to tell thee!

Narrator: Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and fell down upon the earth, and said:

Job: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

Narrator: And with all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly. Then Satan arose and cried:

Satan: Arise, O wind of the sea! From the womb of darkness Where no man dwelleth; From the ends of the earth Which no man knoweth, Hasten, and come!

Arise, O wind of the desert! From the heights of the mountains, Where snows dwell in silence! From the depths of the valleys, Where light never enters; From the spaces of Heav’n, From the caverns of Hell, Hasten, and come!

Arise, O Lord of the sky! From the home of the thunder, Where fear is begotten! From the birthplace of lightning, Whence leapeth destruction, In the might of thy fury, Spreading ruin and death, Hasten, and come.

Chorus: See the clouds that sweep o’er the heavens, the earth is hid as with a veil! Hear the roaring wind from the deep; the forest shaketh as a reed. All the bright lights of heaven are made dark; the sun is covered up with cloud. The heavens all are clothed with the garment of darkness; and the night and the day are as one. The glory of the forest is thrown down, the earth shaketh at the fall thereof, The boughs are broken by the rivers of the sky, and the rocks are rent from the heights of the hills, The children lie slain in the house of feasting, a whirlwind passed over it, and the place thereof shall know it no more.

Chorus: Lift up thy voice, O son of man, and cry. The noise of the song ceaseth; the sound of the harp is no more heard. The walls are broken down; destroyed are the pleasant houses. Where late was a garden, is barren rock; where late a fruitful orchard, is ruin and waste. They that are left have clothed themselves with trembling; and the mourner dwelleth alone.

Scene 3 Introduction: Now when Job's friends heard of all this evil (Narrator)

Narrator: Now when Job’s friends heard of all this evil that was come on him, they came ev’ry one from his own place, to comfort and mourn with him. And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voices and wept. And none spake word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great. Then Job opened his mouth, and cursed his day. And Job spake, and said:

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 1: Let the day perish wherein I was born (Job)

Job: Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was said, There is a man child conceived. Let darkness and the shadow of death stain it; let a cloud dwell upon it; let the blackness of the day terrify it. Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it see the dawning of the day.

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 2: Why died I not from the womb? (Job)

Job: Why died I not from the womb? For now should I have lain still and been quiet, I should have slept. Where the wicked cease from troubling; and the weary are at rest. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and the great are there; and the servant is free from his master. Wherefore is light giv’n to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul; Which long for death, but it cometh not; and dig for it more than for hid treasures; Which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they can find the grave?

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 3: How should a man be just with God? (Job)

Job: How should a man be just with God? If he will contend with Him, he cannot answer Him one of a thousand. He is wise in heart, and mighty in strength: who hath hardened himself against Him, and prospered? He removeth the mountains, and they know not; and overturneth them in His anger. He shaketh the earth out of her place and the pillars thereof tremble. He commandeth the sun, and it riseth not; and sealeth up the stars. He alone spreadeth the heavens, and treadeth the waves of the sea. He doeth great things past finding out, and wonders without number. Lo, He goeth by me, and I see Him not, He passeth on also, but I perceive Him not.

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 4: My soul is weary of my life (Job)

Job: My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; show me wherefore thou contendest with me. Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the works of Thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked? Thine hands have made me and fashioned me round about; yet dost thou destroy me.

Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little, before I go whence I shall not return, into the land of darkness and the shadow of death, where light is as darkness.

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 5: Man that is born of woman is of few days (Job)

Job: Man that is born of woman is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not. As the waters fail from the sea, and the flood decayeth and drieth up: So man lieth down, and riseth not: till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep.

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 6: O that I were as in the months past (Job)

Job: O that I were as in the months past, as in the days when God preseved me; When His candle shined upon my head, when by His light I walked through the darkness. When the Almighty was yet with me, and my children were about me. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me: and my judgment was like a robe and diadem. Unto me men gave ear, and waited, and kept silence at my counsel. After my words they spake not again; and my spirit dropped upon them. I chose out their way, and sat chief, as a king in the army, as one that comforteth the mourners.

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 7: But now my soul is poured out upon me (Job)

Job: But now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of my affliction have taken hold upon me. My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest. He hath cast me into the mire, I am become like dust and ashes. I cry unto Thee, but Thou dost not hear me: I stand up, but Thou regardest me not. Thou art become cruel unto me: and with Thy strong hand Thou opposest Thyself against me.

Scene 3 The Lamentation of Job No 8: For I know that Thou shalt bring me unto death (Job)

Chorus: Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up thy loins like a man, and answer. Where was thou when God laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast any understanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? and who hath laid the corner stone thereof? When the morning stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy?

Chorus: Who shut up the sea with doors, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb? When God made the cloud the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swaddling band for it, And brake up for it his decreed place, and set bars and doors, And said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed!

Chorus: Hast thou commanded the morning since thy days; and caused the dayspring to know his place; That it might take hold of the ends of the earth, that the wicked might be shaken out if it? Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea? or hast thou walked in search of the depth? Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death? Hast thou perceived the breadth of the earth? declare if thou knowest it all. Who hath divided a watercourse for the overflowing of the waters, or a way for the lightning and the thunder; To cause it to rain on the earth, where no man is; on the wilderness wherein there is no man; To satisfy the desolate and waste ground; and cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth? Hath the rain a father? or who hath begotten the drops of dew? Out of whose womb came the ice? and the hoary frost of heaven, who hath gendered it? The waters are hid as with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen.

Chorus: Hast thou given the horse strength? hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? He paweth the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth forth to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swalloweth the ground in the fierceness of his rage; he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting.

Chorus: Gird up thy loins like a man, and answer. Wilt thou disannul judgment, that thou mayest be righteous? Hast thou an arm like God? or canst thou thunder with a voice like His? Deck now thyself with majesty and excellency; and array thyself with glory and beauty. Cast abroad the rage of thy wrath: and tread down the wicked in their place. Hide them in the dust together; and bind their faces in secret.

Scene 4 No 6: Then shall God also confess that thine own right hand can save thee (Chorus/Narrator/Job)

Chorus: Then shall God also confess that thine own right hand can save thee.

Narrator: And Job answered the Lord, and said,

Job: I know that Thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withholden from Thee. I have uttered that I understood not; things too wonderful for me, which I knew not. I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear: and now mine eye seeth Thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

Scene 4 No 7: And it was so, that the Lord turned the captivity of Job (Narrator)